


Home

by orlesiantitans



Category: Carnival Row (TV)
Genre: Character Study, F/M, First Time, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Sex, Post-Season/Series 01, Sort Of, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 15:17:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20968694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orlesiantitans/pseuds/orlesiantitans
Summary: “We still do not know where we’re going to go,” he reminded her, and she smiled to herself, leaning into his side. She should have felt something, really – sadness, or something akin to it. Regret, perhaps. She felt nothing, as her home disappeared from view. Though, as she regarded her lover, she realized it was not that she had  lost a home. She had simply gained one elsewhere.





	Home

As a girl, when Imogen had imagined her first time, it had often been with youth and naivete – her husband would be handsome, she figured, with brown hair, or perhaps blond, and he would be shy and flush a little and kiss her carefully. What followed after that was mostly unknown to her, but her mind always conjured up scenarios of careful lovemaking followed by kisses by the candlelight.

As she grew and her peers started to marry, she got glimpses into what married life would entail. Often, it seemed as though men were _brutal_, only caring for release. Some of the girls didn’t mind. Others said it wasn’t _that_ bad. But overall, it sounded as though their needs came first, and very few of them went to the marriage bed without having had a girl in their beds already.

Childhood dreams were replaced by adult knowledge, and she filed it carefully away – she hoped, at least, her husband would be gentle.

As it turned out, the first time a man made love to her, he was not her husband. His lips were hesitant – his hands were too, to a point, and she felt as though she was having to guide them. When they’d gone to cup her arse, of their own volition, a thrill had gone up her spine. The thrill had increased tenfold when he had her up against the wall, and somehow the slide inside of her was made more intimate that way – she could feel every inch of him, and her mouth opened wide in equal parts ecstasy and discomfort.

They were the same, and they were different, but in that moment they became one. He moved his mouth to her neck, and occasionally she felt his lips move (a kiss? Words? It was impossible to tell). His thumb smoothed over her hip, and between the angle and the careful movements she felt a heat grow and mount within her until she felt it.

_A death and rebirth, all at once_, her mind murmured, and she felt Agreus tense under her, a noise that she had not expected to hear from the usually refined man leaving him – regardless of the moments she’d seen of him where he let go of his carefully constructed veneer.

He let her down, and she went willingly. This was the part she didn’t know so much about – how to stand normally in front of a man after he’d had you, when you feel his seed dripping down your leg. Luckily, he saved her from any awkwardness, giving her another kiss that stole her breath away and made her wish for more.

* * *

The second time, they’d at least made it to the bedroom (though she’d lost most of her clothes on the way – truly, how had she managed to forget that he had a servant?), and she lay afterwards in his arms. It felt right, to be there, to be protected and safe. He was warm, and his heart thrummed under her fingers, and even their legs tangled together felt _right_. It was nothing like what she’d imagined – the man she’d lain with was not her husband, nor was he some beautiful blushing lad. But he cared for her, and she for him, and to her… that made him more beautiful than any other man she’d ever seen.

Predictably, Ezra spoiled everything. She almost wanted to scream at him – _this is your fault!_ she wanted to yell, _you did this!_

But really, there could be no ‘fault’ or ‘blame’ in something so true and wonderful. If she were still that shallow girl she’d been just a scant time before, perhaps, she’d have thought so. Perhaps she’d have married Agreus just for his money, dealt with the scandal for a life of luxury. She certainly wouldn’t have struck her brother for him, she wouldn’t have chosen a _Puck_ over the man she’d grown up with.

But that girl was gone. That girl had become a woman, and as a woman, she knew what she wanted. She ushered out the man she loved, and together they left, watching the Burgue fade into the distance as they left, ignoring the demands they return.

“We still do not know where we’re going to go,” he reminded her, and she smiled to herself, leaning into his side. She should have felt something, really – sadness, or something akin to it. Regret, perhaps. She felt nothing, as her home disappeared from view. Though, as she regarded her lover, she realized it was not that she had _lost_ a home. She had simply gained one elsewhere. 

“Wherever it is, it will be ours,” she told him, turning to face him with a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She felt happy – and he looked happy. Even if it was a restrained sort of happiness, where people could see him.

* * *

It was a short-lived happiness. Ezra, it turned out, had reported their departure – and despite refusing to return the hails from the shore, they’d been tracked down and forced out – the ships that had found them had weapons, and they did not. Imogen held tightly onto Agreus, for the sea didn’t agree with her, and she felt sickness turning her stomach even as she emerged from below decks.

She had told Agreus it was the sea, at least. But her body was changing, she knew it, to accommodate the life growing beneath her navel.

“All non-humans will have to come back. Confined to Carnival Row,” one of the guards said. “And you, Miss Spurnrose, are to go back to your brother.”

She held her head high.

“I will not be going back to my brother. You say non-humans are to be confined to the Row?” she smiled benevolently at them. “Does that include those who have not yet been born?”

The men seemed aghast that the pretty young thing had taken a _puck_ as a lover, and Agreus turned to look at her as if she was mad, even as they were dragged to the other ship, to be forced back to the Row. She wanted to kick and fight, she struggled a little, but there were too many of them. They were armed, and she imagined – unlike her brother -they were actually competent with their weapons.

She let them take her, and it wasn’t until they were under the deck that Agreus deigned to speak to her, looking like a man stricken. It would, perhaps, have been amusing – if the circumstances were different.

“What you said -”

“Is not certain,” she replied, arms around her legs. “But I know my body, and I know when it changes. It has changed. The sickness developed later on in our journey than I would have expected.”

He sighed, “You should not have _said_ anything! They will have you trapped, with me, and we don’t even know if the half breed will come out dead or alive or healthy!”

He was angry. She knew his anger. She also knew it was as much at himself, as her, for letting it happen. There were ways to reduce such risks – she was not entirely naive to that – but they had taken none of them. She moved forwards, placed her hands in his, met his eyes with a certainty and calm she hadn’t known she could possess.

“I know only that my home is no longer a place. It is a person. And to be apart from you would be to lose a piece of myself in the process,” she murmured, cupping his face with her hand. He nuzzled into it, nose at her wrist, and she caught one of his hands with her other, placing it to her belly. She imagined a curve there, though she was uncertain if there was one, or if it was her imagination playing with her. He smoothed his thumb and stared at it, and she rested her forehead against his.

“What do you want of me?” he murmured, and she smirked, meeting his eyes.

“You know good and well what I want.”

It was not the time or the place for such things. As a girl, Imogen had imagined her husband being ecstatic at the thought of being a father, spinning her around, thinking her a marvel. As she grew, she imagined him smiling at her over the newspaper, pleased she’d done her duty.

As a woman, her lover simply looked at her, in the hold of a ship, before kissing her. He worshipped her – kissing her lips, between her legs, before covering her body with his own. He rested his head on her belly, before helping her dress again – they didn’t want caught on this ship, where the men already looked at her with disgust for ‘betraying’ her own kind.

It was not perfect. They were going to be trapped, seen as less, looked down on. But, she was certain of one thing – between both of them, they would survive.

**Author's Note:**

> Not 100% happy with this - been a long time since I actually sat down and wrote something - but I'm in a slump after finishing Carnival Row in one sitting. There's so little fanfic at the moment, so this is my little contribution. Hoping to write something with less timeskips at some point soon (got a few plotbunnies, including but not limited to 'Agreus goes down on Imogen'), but I just wanted to do a little character study-esque fic about Imogen (who is certainly one of the more complex characters in the show).
> 
> Anyway, hope this was at least somewhat enjoyable!


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